Every morning during baseball season my son Jackson tells us the score of the latest Rockies game before even saying good morning. It is like a crazy ongoing morning mantra touchstone in stats. It is the last thing he thinks about at night often falling off to sleep listening to a game. (Yes...listening...like his little ipad is a transistor radio). Watching the wild card game last night with Jackson was rough. The Rockies were always behind. Watching four triples hit in one game against us - one by the relief pitcher against us was brutal. There were other kids over for part of the game - and they threw balls against the wall in frustration to somehow balance what was on the screen. There was no giving up on our couch watching the game. There is NEVER a moment of giving up in any game Jackson watches or plays in. Not until the last out. In the end Jackson just leaned onto me and quietly wiped away tears. He then said, “Now I won’t be able to get a “TAKE17 ROCKTOBER” hoodie.” I told Jackson they would probably be a lot of them for sale. His birthday is coming up.
Jackson said, “The Rockies had a great year.” And they had. “Next year my goal is ten games - including one at another field than Coor’s.” That sounds like a good plan.